


Blood Money Blood Money

by BladedFeather



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. References, Canon Divergence - Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Daredevil (TV) Spoilers, Fluff, M/M, Possessive Behavior, So much violence, Violence, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-25
Updated: 2018-05-25
Packaged: 2018-06-04 09:37:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6652675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BladedFeather/pseuds/BladedFeather
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The man can be taken out of the war, but the war can never be taken out of the man.</p><p>The Winter Soldier has and will always be a weapon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sippy Cup

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this entirely to satisfy my need for Bucky with a sword, and also I finished Daredevil Season 2 and love Frank Castle with my entire soul.
> 
> Title from Sippy Cup by Melanie Martinez.

There was a gurgled inhale of breath, blood bubbling up through the Hydra agents throat, "Sputnik! Sputnik!" The agent screamed as much as their ruined throat would allow.

There was a muffled laugh, and Bucky smirked behind the Winter Soldier mask his fist tightening, the agents throat crunching wetly against his palm, blood and tissue leaking out between the fingers, "Sorry, pal. That doesn't work anymore." He said happily to the corpse in his hand before dropping the body on the ground and lithely stepping aside to avoid some of the blood.

This Hydra base was horribly organized, and some part of Bucky, The Soldier to be specific, watched agents panic with a curled lip.

Sloppy.

Though he couldn't blame them, it seemed as if his late night escapades were beginning to get around.

Not from survivors though.

Bucky kicked down a door, counting the number of agents in the room before it hit the ground. One in the corner, a scientist, cowering. Two soldiers, sluggishly raising their rifles, bodies slowed by fear. The third agent was obviously better trained, considering he wasted no time in opening fire.

The bullets pinged off the metal arm uselessly and before the agent could react Bucky was turning, the butt of his rifle catching the man in the temple. Enhanced hearing made it so Bucky could hear when bone fragments pierced the mans skull.

Bucky fired with the gun where it was, the recoil fully cracking open the mans skull, the bullet catching one of the soldiers under his eye.

A knife flew through the air, catching the last soldier in the shoulder, the force spinning him around as he cried out. 

Pulling a pistol from his belt Bucky walked over, putting a round in the guys head to finish him off.

"Oh god no no nonon _no_ -" The scientist in the corner moaned, his nails scraping against the wall it looked like he was trying to bury himself in. Bucky stopped, assessing. The man was in his late twenties, disgustingly young to be a Hydra lab lackey. He had sandy hair, his green eyes widened in utter terror. Served him right. 

At first Bucky had gone after those who had held him, as many as he could remember, ripping them apart, sometimes literally, as if it would satisfy the deep yearning black pit inside himself. 

Nothing really helped that.

Though it did satisfy it a bit. After awhile though Bucky started to uncover more branches of Hydra, some particularly nasty divisions.

This particular strain of filth abducted and experimented on children.

The idea of it in and of itself sparked an unquenchable rage within him, the flame struck against an instinct older than The Winter Soldier, a base trait that nothing would ever be able to scrub out.

The sheer thought of these sick fucks getting their hands on kids, well. There was a reason Bucky was covered in blood at three in the morning.

The scientist was still screaming, begging for his life, offering Bucky everything he owned, everything he knew. 

Like it would make up for the tiny body bags he had passed on his way in.

Examining the walls around him, he concluded that this must've been the control room, if the plush interior was anything to go by.

There were knick knacks and trophies, probably belonging to the soldier with a bunch of useless medals on his chest laying with his brains on the floor at Bucky's feet.

One particular artifact caught Bucky's attention for some reason, and he wandered closer.

The saber was ornate, and looked deadly sharp to Bucky's trained eye. There were designs all along the spine, no particular form or shape to them, just flowing lines that looked surprisingly elegant.

Bucky picked up the sword.

The weight was perfect, and just as he suspected, it was still razor sharp.

Bucky grabbed the scabbard too.

The scientist had devolved to wordless mumbling, along with something that sounded like prayer. 

Bucky didn't give the bastard any warning, knowing for a fact that he had been a part of the shitshow in this division. As he stalked forward the man stumbled up, bloody messes where his fingernails used to be. Bucky didn't let him get too far, the blade sliced through the mans middle with surprising ease. There was a shocked grunt, and Bucky stared straight into the man's eyes as he slowly twisted the blade, the icy rage pooling under his skin.

They were just kids.

Bucky didn't make a noise, but something inside him fractured at the thought of those bags. Twelve of them. Stepping back the scientists body fell to the floor, and Bucky really didn't care whether or not he was dead, he deserved to die slow.

It was time to go home. 

Bucky absently flipped the sword in his hand as he placed the explosives before remembering he had brought the scabbard with him and secured it to his belt, sheathing the weapon.

Just as he had primed the final StarkTech bomb, there was a prickle on the back of his neck, and his senses told him at once that he was not alone.

Bucky turned just as the potential (and probable) enemy walked through the doors. 

They stared at one another for a moment, one of Bucky's hands palming his pistol, the other the pommel of his recently acquired sword.

"This you?" The man asked, gesturing to the bodies of the Hydra agents, the bombs on the walls. Bucky nodded curtly, assessing the individual in front of him.

Military, by stance alone. Volatile. Dangerous. Carrying four guns, one of which was visible. Six grenades. Four knives.

This man came outfitted for war.

Much like Bucky himself, to be honest

"You with them?" The man asked and Bucky had decided not to make any noise, but at the question a low snarl escapes him, the mere thought of it making his fingers twitch, metal arm whir softly.

The man with the white logo on his chest simply nodded, as if that was answer enough. He turned to leave, but Bucky found his voice,

"The kids," He started, his chest tight and at a loss for words. The man cursed, the line of his body going tight, like a livewire, ready for violence. 

He spit another curse and looked around, never holstering his weapon. Smart. With a sigh he turned back around, holding out his hand, "You have the detonator." Instinctively Bucky took a step back. While the man in front of him was a threat, he was a regular human.

And he would break like a regular human, his brain supplied.

Bucky ignored it, but narrowed his eyes at the man and his open his hand. 

"Look. I can take care of the kids, get them out of here, find their families. I know some people. Give me the detonator. I'll level this place when they're out."

Bucky held his stance for exactly twenty seconds, before taking a step forward, intending to look menacing even though he knew that the man would not show fear on the off chance it affected him.

"Kids first." He hissed, voice rough and deep through the mask.

The man nodded seriously, looking at him closely. 

Warning bells sounded in his broken brain but Bucky ignored them.

Instead of asking for his name, the man just nodded again, not taking his eyes off of Bucky or turning his back to him as Bucky strode out of the room.

Very smart.

Whoever he was, this man was not afraid. But he treated Bucky as he was meant to. Like at any moment he would lash out. Strike in the space between heartbeats.

Like the weapon he was.

Bucky wouldn't, but he appreciated that the other man had the sense to recognize he could.

*

By the time Bucky was climbing a roof, halfway back to Avengers Tower after hanging back to make sure the man kept his promise (He had, the kids had gotten out first, which would hopefully give some peace to their families,) He looked behind himself to see a distant warehouse go up in flames as the secret Hydra base under it was annihilated. 

It warmed him up in the cold night air.

The secret side elevator was sliding closed behind him just as the sirens started up.

They would find a crater where the scum that was Hydra had built their base. 

It was enough to put a smile on his face, even behind the confining mask.

Bucky removed it when he remembered it's presence, tucking it into his tac vest.

Steve didn't like it. Winced like he was in pain every time he saw it. 

Bucky didn't really have an opinion about it, other than that it was useful, but causing Steve pain was literally the last thing he ever wanted to do, and he knew that he already worried Steve enough by vanishing randomly to clean up the streets. JARVIS kept up polite conversation with him while they traveled to his and Steve's floor, filling him in on what crazy antics he had missed while he was off heroing or whatever.

"Goodnight Jarvis," Bucky murmured when he got off the elevator, and could hear the pleased tone when Jarvis replied. Bucky liked JARVIS.

Quickly Bucky shucked his tac gear, storing it in their special weapons locker by the door, placing his guns back in the slots and cutting back on his knives until he only had two on his person. The sword he leaned in the case, making a mental note to ask for a place for it in there. The shield dominated their little arsenal (most...okay all of it was due to Bucky. You could never have too many guns.) Steve insisted that he only needed the shield, and any weapons he could come by on the field if need be. 

Bucky thought he was an idiot.

A shower was immediately in order, because the blood was beginning to dry and Bucky was beginning to shake a little. 

The warm water was a godsend, and even if Bucky wanted to break a coffee table over Stark's head on a regular basis, his building had an amazing shower and endless hot water. It was a dream come true for someone who used to have to fill up the bath with water from the stove.

The muck and blood rinsed down the drain, eventually the water stopped being rust brown and ran clear, and after washing the conditioner out of his hair Bucky stepped out, wrapping himself in the fluffiest towel available before sitting in front of the heater.

Godsends.

After he was dry and in the thin T-shirt he loved (that had definitely been Steve's, but he would defend to to his last breath that No Natasha, this is _my shirt. **shut up**._ ) 

Then there were the kittens.

Specifically, the kittens with little galaxies behind them all over his absolute favorite pajama pants.

They were the softest thing on the face of the Earth, Bucky was positive. And they made him feel better. Stark had only laughed at him once about wearing the kitty Pjs. 

Once.

As soon as he was horizontal, he was out.

* 

Bucky scrunched up his nose, rolling over, or trying to.

The arm around his waist was like a vise, and Bucky gingerly checked over his shoulder, rolling his eyes fondly when he confirmed that yes, Steve was still sound asleep. Holding onto Bucky like a long-lost teddy bear.

The thought made something soft twinge in his chest and Bucky nuzzled back into the blissful super-soldier warmth, kissing Steve's wrist and earning himself a smile at the back of his neck. Listening to the steady rhythm of Steve's breathing managed to lull him back to sleep, and the next time he woke up it was much later, the sun slanting in a way that Bucky knew meant it was probably afternoon.

The thought made him grin. Bucky only got good sleep when Steve was around, and the crazy bastard liked to get up in the morning and _run_. Because he was fucking looney, too many blows to the head. But Bucky dragged himself up every morning too because he couldn't let on that his broken head only let him sleep when he could count Steve's heartbeats or else the self-sacrificing prick would change his entire life to accommodate Bucky. Okay so stopping the morning runs weren't entirely life changing, but it was another sacrifice that Steve shouldn't have to make for him.

Though from the self-appointed mission that Bucky had been on last night he had been tired as all hell, and apparently the secret to keeping Steve in bed past noon was A. Sex and B. Nuzzling into his chest and making huffing noises when he tried to get up.

Bucky stretched, beyond pleased that Steve was still sleeping. He didn't get too much good sleep either.

Wrapping his arms around Steve's middle, he grinned when Steve made a soft snuffling noise, tucking his face in the crook of Bucky's neck.

Bucky poked and prodded gently until Steve slowly woke up, blinking hard up at him with a soft smile on his lips, 

"Mornin' Buck." He mumbled, closing his eyes again as he held Bucky closer. Bucky was half expecting that to be followed with a plea for five more minutes, please. It had happened all the time back when they shared an apartment.

"Hey there," Bucky whispered, carding his fingers through Steve's sleep mussed hair.

Steve sighed real deep, pressing a sleepy kiss into Bucky's neck, "You were gone..."

Bucky winced, sleep falling away rapidly. He had forgotten to leave a note saying he'd be gone. "Sorry Stevie, I forgot." The spot right behind Steve's ear was the safest place to whisper things, he was sure. He'd said a thousand secrets there. It was like confession, whispering to Steve in the early mornings before they woke to face the world. 

Instead of God's punishment and several Hail Mary's, Steve rubbed his cheek against Bucky's, sleep-dumb, "'Is O.K. Buck. Just worried about ya." 

Smiling Bucky kissed Steve's temple, unable to even begin to grasp the love in his heart for this man.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a mess, I don't even know.
> 
> Will maybe post all of this one day.
> 
> (Kitten pajamas really are the greatest though, and Bucky deserves to experience them.)


	2. Blood Still Stains

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I've seen Civil War and. Hell yes. (No Spoilers here though)
> 
> Anyway, before I get pulled into the abyss of writing as many CW fics as possible, here's more of this, because...why not? 
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

There was a wet sound, and then the Hydra agents arm hit the ground. Blood poured from the jagged wound where the sword had effortlessly detached the limb, the blade made of stronger stuff than it should've been, to be honest. 

The weapons composition was no matter though, as it pierced directly through the agents larynx with ease.

From an outside perspective it probably looked like dancing.

The thought almost made Bucky smile, he used to be good at dancing.

Looked like he still was, just not in the same way.

Bullets were simply annoyances to glance off of the metal arm. Bucky Barnes was an unstoppable force of nature. He was a weapon, and he picked the target.

The blade sang through the air as Bucky spun, the metal arm whirring gently through the carnage. And carnage it was.

There was nothing to be done to avoid the blood, the downfall to his new favorite toy. 

Severed arteries spit it like fountains, and the blade dripped it like a wolf's tooth after a hunt.

Bucky lodged it in a different agents neck, pulling it out and slicing another open. Intestines spilling out as the agent stared in shock, hands numbly reaching for them, trying to put them back in.

A cut to the back of the knee, a round to the back of the head, a blade through the heart.

Bucky had gone utterly and totally cold.

Slipping into The Winter Soldier. 

But...not.

The cuts were made with horrifying precision.

The kill shots unerringly accurate. 

The Winter Soldier did not miss.

He did not stop.

He did not feel.

But Bucky was not The Winter Soldier.

The Winter Soldier was merely a part of him. A tool, a mask. Something he had _taken_ from Hydra. A piece not of his own making, but a useful and deadly piece

A way to do good.

Though there was nothing noble going through Bucky's head as he tore through the ranks of Hydra.

Bucky had already intended to obliterate their existence.

But then he found the files.

Hundreds of files. Files detailing exactly what tests they wanted to run on Steve, debates between scientists on whether or not they wanted to keep him alive for the tests.

Whether or not The Chair would work on him.

The brutal barbaric part of him that would always and forever be The Soldier had seen those files and felt a deep surge of possessive rage.

The eternal and very essence of his soul that made him Bucky Barnes had seen those files and wanted to burn the world down. Wanted to tear it all apart with his bare hands, rip out their still beating hearts.

It was something that both parts of him agreed on.

Bucky had never been a good man.

Not like Steve.

And he would fight and he would kill to protect the only thing in the world that mattered to him.

The only thing that made him keep breathing.

The Winter Soldier knew that Steve was MISSION-PROTECT.

The Winter Soldier knew that Steve was PRIORITY-LEVEL 1.

DESIGNATION: MISSION SAFETY IMPERATIVE.

PROTOCOL 616: ASSETS FUNCTIONALITY _**DEPENDENT**_ ON MISSION SAFETY.

It wasn't often anymore that Bucky's conscious fractured like this.

The Winter Soldier had labeled Steve as _theirs._

Bucky didn't even notice the slow slide down and away, though not like before.

Not entirely. 

This wasn't a fracturing, it was a blending.

Every part of Bucky's being raged. 

So it was with deadly cold precision that a Hydra agents knees were shot out, and his neck snapped.

It was with burning hot rage that another agent was punched in the face. Fragile bones shattering and splintering under the brute force. 

The Winter Soldier and Bucky Barnes.

Working together.

The last agent in the compound was enhanced, just a slight speed increase, nowhere near Pietro.

It was enough to be annoying. 

The third time that the obviously inexperienced agent whizzed by him Bucky snapped out his left arm, his reflexes faster than lightning.

The agent kept moving.

The garrote wire in Bucky's hands snapped taut.

The bones in the agent's jaw broke first.

There was a sick tearing noise, and the agents body slid against the opposite wall.

Bucky let go. 

There was no sound or color in the world still, all of it washed out and faded, secondary to the alarms in Bucky's head. 

Protect.

The charges detonated as Bucky was walking away with single-minded purpose. Hydra had burned every location of every Hydra base into his brain, and he was going to eradicate them. He was going to do the equivalent of burning their crops and salting their earth. Bucky was going to cut off every fucking head. Every goddamned one of them. 

Bucky didn't realize he hadn't sheathed his sword until he heard the yelling.

"Hey! What the hell man? Are you alright?" The stranger yelled down the alley, and Bucky instinctively pressed himself to a wall, though it was obviously no use, because the next moment the stranger was hurrying down the alley, briefcase in hand.

Civilian. Bucky's shoulders relaxed minutely, the word still dull, as if he was underwater.

"Hey are you okay? Do you need me to call-" The man trailed off, hands going to his long sandy hair in obvious horror, "Holy shit! Is that blood yours? Holy shit, what the fuck. Is that a _sword?"_ Bucky glanced down at it's mention, and carefully sheathed it, standing up straight and intending on telling him that it wasn't necessary to call anyone when the world tilted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic is basically finished, but I'll just be posting pieces of it here and there.


	3. Silly Girl With Silly Boys

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The situation made his skin start to feel like it was vibrating.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The gangs all here.

The light in the room was wrong and unfamiliar. It no longer felt like he was underwater but the situation made his skin start to feel like it was vibrating. There was a massive billboard outside of the honestly beautiful studio windows, and Bucky was almost sidetracked wondering how anyone in their right mind could live with that monstrosity outside.

"He's awake!" It was the sandy haired man from the alley, and he was whisper-shouting somewhere over Bucky's head. Bucky remained utterly still on the strange couch . There was only one other person in the apartment besides the sandy haired man.

The woman walked into view, a strong set to her shoulders. Bucky could tell that this woman meant business. To the untrained eye you couldn't even tell that she was afraid from the power of her stance. Bending down she reached toward him, pulling out a pocket torch and Bucky did a full body flinch when her hand got close. The woman studied him carefully before pulling back.

"There were two bullet wounds and a knife wound that looked like it should've killed you by the time I got here. Though I'm guessing you were a lot worse off before-hand, considering in about an hour I'm going to have to take out those stitches." The idea of someone doing medical work on him while he was unconscious makes his eyes close forcefully, reminding himself that he is not with Hydra, and that this woman did not hurt him. With a long exhale he opens his eyes,

"Thank you, Ma'am." He winces a little at the scratch of his voice. The woman and the sandy haired man both share a look of shock. Then the woman stands and gestures for the sandy haired man to follow her.

Bucky should probably have said that he can hear them.

"I gotta call Matt, holy shit."

"Wait, he _doesn't_ know about this already!? What the hell Foggy, what if this guy is bad news? Who the hell carries a _sword_." 

Before the sandy haired man, Foggy apparently, can respond, the door opens.

Bucky can tell just by listening that the person who walks through the door is not a civilian. Whoever they are they are making an effort in order to be heard, something that Bucky frequently struggles with.

"Foggy, are you in here? The door was unlocked so-" The voice stops abruptly, and the man at the foot of the couch is looking at him and through him at the same time. 

Bucky knows who this man is.

Steve had mentioned him a few times, someone the Avengers had met with occasionally. Steve liked him, they went to church together sometimes, because nothing could take the Catholic faith and guilt out of that punk.

Matt Murdock, alias, Daredevil.

"Foggy," Matt starts, as if not sure what to start asking first. 

"Matt I'm sorry I didn't know what to do! I called Claire and she said to bring him here and-" It seems as if the shock of finding Bucky on his couch had made Matt forget about the woman standing in the corner and he greets her warmly, to which she just tiredly nods back. 

Coming to stand in front of him and leaning on his cane Matt cocks his head, probably listening to his heartbeat, "Well, we should at least know each, if you're going to bleed all over my furniture."

Bucky forces himself into a sitting position, ignoring the way that the woman-Claire- clenches her jaw. "Daredevil." He says shortly, and it's apparent that they were not expecting him to know this, "Matt Murdock, lawyer of Hell's Kitchen."

The silence in the room is shocked. Matt blinks at him for a moment. 

"Okay, so you know who I am. Who are you?"

Bucky can practically hear Steve nagging at him for scaring these people, even unintentionally. (It's probably strange that his conscious basically takes the voice of little Stevie Rogers, telling him it ain't polite to ask after a lady right after a break-up.)

"Bucky Barnes, pleasure to meet you." He murmurs and if the silence before was shocked, now it's just plain bewildered.

Foggy pushes off from the wall looking utterly confused, "Whoa whoa, wait. Hold on. Bucky Barnes, like, WWII Bucky Barnes?" 

Bucky nods and it looks like Foggy might need to sit down. 

Claire sits down. Right where she was standing.

Matt is staring at him intently behind his glasses, and Bucky turns to stare back.

"Why should we believe that? That shouldn't even be possible." 

Bucky's entire body hurts. He's not happy with himself, and his therapist is going to throw a bitchfit about what happened last night, and he just wants to get home.

"Look pal, I know you can tell when someone is lying. I'm Bucky Barnes, in the flesh. Mostly." The metal arm whirs as he moves it.

Claire looks flabbergasted and like she doesn't get paid enough for this shit all at once, "So why are you getting the shit kicked out of you in the dark like Matt?" 

Matt's face does this thing where it looks like he wants to pout, but won't allow himself to.

Bucky cannot help the menace in his voice, "Hydra." He spits, "They're still skulking around, trying to dig their claws back in. I was their favorite toy and now that I'm loose, well let's just say I'm biting the hand that fed."

It seems like a lot of information to process.

"Wait, so like _Bucky Barnes_. If you're **Bucky** then does..." Foggy looks halfway between the fan glee that Coulson still gets around Steve sometimes, and utter confusion, "Does Captain America know you're alive?" 

Bucky manages to crack a smile.

"Sure does. In fact, he's probably wondering where I am." 

The timing is kind of poetic, Bucky can hear the heavy steps pounding up the stairs right as he finishes, and knows from the way that Matt goes tense that he can too.

There is forceful yet polite knocking at the door and Bucky rolls his eyes, just a little.

Matt opens the door and before he can even open his mouth Steve is talking,

"I'm sorry to drop by unannounced like this Matt, I really am. But I'm looking for someone and a woman told me that they had seen them come into this building I-" Matt holds up a hand and opens the door wider, Steve all but runs into the living room, shield on his arm and all.

Steve nearly drops the shield when he sees him, then haphazardly places it against the couch, coming to his knees in front of Bucky, and he can't help the soft smile on his lips, even if he knows he's about to get one hell of a lecture.

"Jesus Christ Buck, what the hell happened?" Steve's hands are light as they run over his shoulders and down his arms, and then his sides, wincing every time he finds an injury.

"I had 'em on the ropes." It's worth it to see Steve's mouth kick up even if he rolls his eyes, "'Sides, they helped me." That doesn't save him from the glare that Steve gives him when he discovers the knife wound. 

Turning to the others Steve hit them with the full wattage of his 'Earnest Captain America' face. "I cannot thank you all enough. If there is anything you need in the way of repayment-"

Claire stands, shaking her head vehemently, "No. I am not taking payment from a national hero, nope. Neither are either of you," She hisses at Matt and Foggy who raise their hands to placate her.

They all freeze as the door opens again and only relax when a tall slender woman comes around the partition, stopping when she sees everyone.

"Foggy? Matt? You guys weren't at the office-" Matt moves immediately, putting himself a little bit in front of her, and Bucky frowns.

What could've happened to her, to make him try and protect her with _Captain Goddamn America_ in the room?

There is a hunted look deep in the woman's blue eyes that Bucky knows much too well. 

Bloody hands.

"Oh, hello everyone." She greets pleasantly, and Bucky likes her already. Steve stands, because he is a gentleman. He is also a dick because he pushes Bucky back down when he too tries to stand, leveling a glare at him before moving to greet the newcomer.

"Steve Rogers, nice to meet you." The blonde woman smiles hugely,

"Karen Page. I didn't know you knew Matt?" She asks, halfway directing her question at Matt who gets this cat who got the cream look on his face.

Bucky loses the rest of the conversation as Claire comes up to him. 

"I have to get back to the Hospital, but those stitches need to come out within the next hour, okay?" Her words brook no argument and so Bucky just nods seriously, thanking her again. 

Once Claire has left and the rest of the apartments occupants are seated comfortably Steve comes back over to Bucky, his eyes very rarely leaving him. 

They talk for a bit with the lawyers and Karen, who Bucky finds out is their secretary.

"It's been wonderful to meet you Karen, Foggy." Steve says, nodding at them, "But I think I should get Bucky home." 

Bucky and Karen had gotten to talking about recipes somehow, and she unexpectedly grabs a slip of paper, writing a string of digits quickly. 

"Tell me how it works out, it's tricky to make." 

Bucky is touched, and looks at the thin woman for a moment before smiling brightly. It seems to throw her off a moment, before she smiles back, just as brightly.

*

"I swear to God Buck." Steve breathes, mouth sliding over his neck, "You worried the hell out of me. What the fuck was I gonna do if you didn't come home?" The kisses he presses into the skin are tinged with desperation. The guilt in Bucky's chest won't be leaving anytime soon. He knows that.

Wrapping his arms around Steve's waist, he flips them, kisses Steve once, twice, again and again.

"I know." He whispers, "I know. I love you. I'm sorry."

He isn't worth it and he doesn't deserve it, but Steve repeats it, again and again into his skin like a prayer.

*

Karen is pleased when she finds out that the cookies turned out excellently. Her smile reminds him of another one. Younger, a face that looked like his own. 

His sister, he places suddenly.

The smile that Karen is giving him turns a little worried around the edges, and Bucky quickly marshals his features, accepting the folder she is holding out to him; her new job as a journalist suits her quick mind. 

"I got everything I could dig up, I hope it helps." 

Bucky smiles, knowing that it would make her smile too, and grips the file tightly.


	4. Left Hand Free

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They were getting closer and Bucky could feel it, knew that Castle could too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all of the lovely comments, they make my day.

It isn't hard to figure out where he must've gotten the intel from.

They both have a primary source.

Bucky's been doing research since meeting their friends from Hell's Kitchen.

The Punisher.

Bucky only knows about him through the lens of reports, some biased news analyses, other clinical and sterile psyche profiles, all of which Castle had failed.

Bucky puts less to no stock in them.

Karen had smiled a small hurt smile when asked about The Punisher, about Frank Castle.

Though through his own in-depth and precise investigations Bucky finds that the man known as The Punisher operates on a moral code that which is agreeable to his.

While there are some ways in which they conflict, it is not significant enough for Bucky to take notice. 

Castle greets him with a mildly surprised yet cordial nod when he spots him approaching the entrance to the Hydra base.

It seems that he either has done his own research, or has made a judgement call from the field when they last saw each other.

Either way, it's enough.

And Bucky's just here for his mission, the assist is not necessary, but it isn't unwelcome.

The Mission was thus:

The strain of Hydra that was experimenting on children was much larger than it had initially appeared, and the main focus of their goal was still unclear, shrouded in layers of side and back projects. It was both intentional and unintentional secrecy.

Castle killed two of the agents with head shots, aiming at a third until one of Bucky's knives ended up embedded in their temple. 

They worked decently together. Efficient and brutal.

Bucky was faster, stronger than Castle, but the other soldier had no trouble keeping up.

By the third level Bucky had given up with small arms, unsheathing his sword and bearing down on Hydra's ranks.

A slit throat, a gasp for gurgled air.

A missing arm, a scream, silence from a bullet.

Efficient and Brutal.

They tore through Hydra.

Castle's presence wasn't actually terrible. 

They were through the fourth floor, breathing heavily and changing magazines when Castle spoke for the first time.

"Why not with him?" Castle didn't use a lot of words. Something that Bucky could appreciate considering he was mostly the same way. 

Bucky knew what he meant immediately.

It was a smart question, logical even. 

Bucky's reasoning was not.

There was silence for a moment before Bucky swallowed, running a gloved hand along the blood dripping from the edge of his sword,

"He can't." Bucky stopped, tried again, "I won't risk him. His spirit or his safety."

Castle nodded. Understanding.

Bloody hands.

*

It didn't take them long to clear the base.

The bottom level was a burned mess, obviously a fail-safe of some kind having been triggered.

From the ashes they could make out the charred remains of tubes that faintly resembled the cryo-chambers that they had used to house The Winter Soldier.

Bucky's face stayed impassive as he looked at them. 

Then there were the bones.

The fire had to have been unnaturally hot to char a human being to just bones, but there they were among the rubble.

Castle's upper lip curled dangerously when they came upon them.

Tiny, fragile looking, bones.

It wasn't hard to guess what they were.

The two men in body armor shared a look and a silent agreement was made.

There was something horrible going on, and they were going to figure it out.

*

They would never plan together, not really.

It was just that they both had their sources, and would show up at the same base eventually. Not always arriving at the same time.

So it wasn't necessary to construct a strategy.

Rip and tear.

That was the basis of their philosophy as they worked their way through the remaining Hydra bases in the area, buried under and inside of the city like a sickness.

The more bases they tore apart the more they found out about the plot and how deep it was. 

Whatever it was they were doing, it was something that Hydra had kept very closely guarded.

None of the lower ranking agents ever knew what they were talking about, when they asked them about test chambers and DNA.

The higher ranking officials began killing themselves once it was clear that they were being attacked.

They were getting closer and Bucky could feel it, knew that Castle could too.

Steve never asked, not directly, what he was really doing when he vanished (always leaving a note).

The Avengers were even called away during Bucky's investigation, (and he found that dismantling Hydra was an effective way to distract himself from his own worry.)

Steve had invited him, standing at the door in his full Captain America uniform, shield harnessed to his back.

Any other time and Bucky would've jumped at the chance to keep an eye on his idiot, but there was something about what Hydra was doing that was digging under his skin.

So he had held Steve tight, wished him luck, and saw him off.

Hissing to the Avengers that they had better watch their Captain's back as the quinjet took off.

Because Bucky couldn't go, because he had information to obtain.

*

The bar looked so much like every other bar that it was suspicious, and Bucky wasn't fooled.

So he took a seat, and waited.

It didn't take long for a young woman to stand at the end of his table.

She knew something was wrong, held herself taut like a bow and stared at him challengingly.

Bucky didn't doubt for a second that she was dangerous, not with who she was anyway, and not being where they were.

S.H.I.E.L.D HQ.

"I need to speak to the Director."

There were no outward signs of shock or surprise, so whoever this was they were at least highly trained. Before she could open her mouth, to possibly question him or try to ask what he meant, he kept going,

"This is S.H.I.E.L.D HQ, or one of them at least, your name is Daisy Johnson, and the Director is here; probably in the sprawling underground base that this booth right here just happens to be an elevator to," he leaned back in the booth, putting the files in his hand on the table, "and I need to speak to them."

"Who are you?" Daisy had a hard set to her mouth and while he abilities had been vaguely described Bucky knew not to underestimate her.

Yet he couldn't stop the corners of his mouth turning up slightly, "A ghost story."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I'm on [Tumblr](http://jamesbuckybuck.tumblr.com/) if you want to come cry with me about the Brooklyn Boys and encourage me to write faster. (I also will take prompts. I will jump at the chance. Literally.)


	5. Heathens

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm about to be a sophomore in college and the stress level is 10000.  
> Anyway, I hope you like this.

With a wary look, Daisy had put a hand to the comm she was undoubtedly wearing and walked away, disappearing somewhere else inside of the bar.

Bucky ordered a drink. 

It gave him something to do with his hands and distracted him from assessing the room, taking in all of the threats. He hadn't wanted to come at all, but the information Hydra had programmed him with was outdated.

This time when someone slid into the booth opposite him, he actually _was_ surprised. 

Bucky didn't expect the Director to actually show himself, but there was no faint shimmer around him, so he wasn't a hologram.

He was also undoubtedly the Director. Bucky hadn't done too much research when tracking down the S.H.I.E.L.D cell, but he was able to get a few glimpses of the mans profile. 

For a minute they simply looked at each other, assessing.

Bucky took a drink from his beer.

The Director raised an eyebrow.

"Who are you, and what do you want?" The Director asked, and Bucky tilted his head, studying his face for a moment.

"Do they know you're alive?" 

Coulson had no obvious tells, but Bucky could tell he didn't know what to make of the question. (Bucky wondered, for a minute, if he should tell the team, considering they still mourned him.)

"Answer the question." 

Bucky narrowed his eyes, putting down his drink to casually remove the glove on his right hand.

Then his left.

Right after he did the three agents that Bucky had spotted lurking around the bar all pulled their guns.

He rolled his eyes.

"How did you find this place? Who are you working for, Winter Soldier?" Coulson didn't even look alarmed, so he must've really trusted the agents scattered around the bar.

Though Bucky was kind of getting sick of being interrogated.

"Look pal," he started falling into a speech pattern that had a history of being soothing to some, resting his left hand on the table, "I don't know where you guys have been these past few months but.-" 

Coulson interrupted him, finally sitting forward and folding his hands on the table, "We've been fighting Hydra these last few months. After you and Pierce launched those Helicarriers and nearly killed Captain America. So I'm going to ask you one more time before I have an agent put a bullet in your head. How did you find this place? And who are you-"

Bucky held up a finger, almost smirking at the offended look on Coulson's face, and finished his beer. 

Bucky leaned forward, folding his hands on the table and mimicking Coulson's position. He wasn't able to twist his expression into something nice, so it ended up with him basically baring his teeth at the other man,

"I was the world's greatest assassin for seventy years, and I nearly killed Director Fury. I found this place because no matter how good your operation is at hiding, I had decades to perfect my skills." He paused, watching Coulson's face, "You've been underground too long, a lot has happened since those helicarriers came down, and I work for no one but myself."

Coulson studied him before leaning back again, "Then give me a reason not to..."

Bucky tensed slightly as Coulson trailed off, but then followed the Director's line of sight, actually smirking when he saw what Coulson was looking at.

It had been Steve's idea, because he was an idiot.

But Bucky hadn't been about to tell him no when he went down on one knee.

Coulson actually looked slightly confused, and he looked at Bucky's hand for moment before looking back at his face, "...that wasn't in the files, Soldier."

Bucky huffs what would've been a laugh, in another time; and raises his right hand across the table ignoring the way that the agents around them tensed,

"Actually, it's Bucky."

*

The Director was staring at him closely, which was about as close to gaping as he would ever get, Bucky surmised.

Bucky was still holding out his hand, waiting patiently.

Because he knew he looked different from all of the old pictures, the textbooks he was apparently in. (Wasn't that something?)

The serum had broadened him out even more, and he had a lot more muscle than he did back in the 40's where he was lucky to eat one square meal a day, let alone three.

The long hair, stubble, and metal arm probably didn't help either.

"Bucky Barnes was a hero, and close friend to Captain Rogers. The fact that you are attempting to impersonate him is at the very least offensive." It seemed that either Coulson didn't believe him, or didn't want to.

Bucky sighed, lowering his hand, "I don't know what exactly your little group was doing, but when I said there was a lot you missed after the Helicarriers, I wasn't joking."

If he wanted their help. He was going to have to explain.

*

The agents who had been lurking finally melted out of the shadows after awhile, and Bucky casually assessed them as he spoke, or rather, let the pictures talk for themselves. Words were still annoying sometimes.

May, Melinda. The Calvary. She was good.

Campbell, Lincoln. Inhuman. {Specification: Ability to generate electricity.} Staring at him like he was just waiting for the chance to electrocute him.

And of course, Daisy. Who had been staring at him with narrowed eyes the entire time.

The pictures he had projected from his phone (Tony was actually useful sometimes) were various encounters the Avengers had been on where Bucky had tagged along. The pictures were all taken by Clint, because Bucky wasn't exactly comfortable with the media knowing that The Avengers had allowed someone like him on the team. And Clint was just a sneaky bastard who got bored on missions.

Then there was The Winter Soldier project.

Coulson actually winced during those.

When Bucky felt like he had given them enough, he pulled out a different folder, and tapped it.

"I came here for information."

Coulson looked to the other members of his team before nodding.

"What do you need to know?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up next: Gratuitous violence. **Gratuitous**. Also. Plot twist.


	6. Cry Baby

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, I am still alive, amazing right? So...this took forever. For a lot of reasons. Firstly, this fic is actually done, has always been done. But some things happened, and some...opinions (instead of constructive criticism it was blatant insults) were shared to me about my writing, and honestly? It scared me off writing. I let what was said get to me, and haven't touched any of my fics since. And in this case, haven't cleaned any up in order to post them.(College starting also didn't help)  
> It took me awhile, but I finally plucked up the courage to try and get back in the swing of things.  
> I hope you enjoy, and I'm sorry for the wait. <3

The information Coulson had given him was good, and it exposed Hydra's tendrils that still clung to the city.

Bucky razed it all to the ground. 

Left the remains of Hydra smoldering behind him.

The more bases Bucky destroyed, the more abandoned plans he found, and the more clear it became what exactly Hydra was trying to do.

In the base filled with cages and empty shackles, so small that Bucky felt sick, he found a folder marked 'FAILED' in giant red letters.

Inside was a detailed report of different attempts to recreate the Serum. Trying to inject it into kids. The goal to create an army of kids young enough to brainwash without the million dollar equipment.

They never got it right, and ended up killing all of them.

The black hatred in Bucky's chest was something that he knew would never fade. 

While truly eradicating Hydra was something that maybe even he couldn't do, he was at the end of Coulson's list.

And it was time to call for back-up.

*

After a brutal fight through the upper levels, The Winter Soldier and The Punisher arrived in the belly of the beast.

The basement level was cold and dark, only inhabited by scientists. Severely understaffed and underfunded.

Bucky bared his teeth behind his mask at every single one of them, all of them that screamed and begged for their lives.

Like he had once pleaded, in the beginning.

Castle moved through them ruthlessly, he and Bucky were a mirror image.

The scientists were pleading, agonizing over what they had done.

_"He's found out. God no, he's here. Mercy please. **Mercy**."_

Bucky didn't find out what they really meant until they made it to the room labeled 'Test 1'.

Inside were five containers that looked to be a sterile mimicry of cribs. A sight that made something inside of him flinch.

Castle took one look into the room and turned around. Stalking after the few remaining scientists.

**Five.**

The fragile grey plastic snapped under Bucky's hands, and he breathed harshly through his nose.

The test tubes finally made sense.

Something acidic was churning in Bucky's stomach as he and Castle reached the last door on the floor, Bucky ripping out the security panel and wrenching it open.

There were a group of six scientists, huddled in the adjacent control room, hands hovering over a button that no doubt would release a nasty surprise, shouting in German.

_"Let us go or else! Let us go!"_

Bucky plunged his fist into the controls through the bulletproof glass, slicing off the scientist's hand on the button.

The final scientist, portly and balding slightly with grey around the temples, was hissing code phrases at him and when it didn't work resorted to seething at him. About how he was too late, about how they were all dead. About how he was a traitor.

Bucky broke his legs with a sharp kick, shot him in the abdomen, and left him.

The Soldier wanted to stand over the man until the light bled from his pathetic eyes, proof of **mission success** ; but Castle's voice carried from the next room over.

" _Soldier_ ," Was all he said, but the tone of his voice had Bucky sprinting into the room, freezing entirely in the doorway.

Frank was staring down into a crib with a distantly pained expression on his face, murmuring something soft and rhythmic.

Bucky approached the crib carefully, taking in the way that Castle tensed when he approached, fingers tightening on his rifle's grip.

Castle was willing to try and kill him if he was a threat to whatever was in that crib.

The lists of things it could be were incredibly short.

When Bucky peered over the edge, the sight rooted him to the spot.

There was a soft coo, and the tiny, pudgy little girl in the crib waved her fists at them.

Tears starting to well in her eyes.

Bucky's breath caught, held.

Frank tightened further, his gaze lifting off the baby to stare at him.

There was no question as to what he was saying with that look.

Bucky exhaled, reaching his flesh and blood hand inside the crib,

"Hey there, sweetheart," He whispered, and Bucky felt his own eyes welling up. Because it was impossible. It was ridiculous. There was. It wasn't.

Bucky stroked his thumb gently across the little girl's face, feeling a few tears roll down his face as he wiped away hers.

Deep down Bucky _knew_.

Had known something like this had been tried before.

It had never worked. 

Only one strand wasn't enough.

(The file he found later would confirm it, this time marked 'SUCCESS'. They had combined his and Steve's DNA, gathered when he had first come out of the ice and stolen by the Hydra members within SHIELD after the fall.)

Unable to recreate the serum without Zola's knowledge, they'd taken a different route.

They'd tried over and over. Test tube after test tube, until it worked. Until the infant lived. And most importantly to them.

Until the Serum was finally passed down. 

Weaker, imperfect, but still there.

She was to be The Winter Soldier's replacement.

She was to be the first of many. 

She was.

She was theirs.

Bucky's entire world shattered and imploded around him when he gently picked that little girl up from the crib, forgetting entirely that Castle was there. She had started to cry, though so very softly, as if she had been taught not to in her short life of two maybe three months.

The anger was easily suppressed for another time. Her soft yet distressed cries piercing him through the heart. 

"Shhhh, it's alright. It's okay baby girl. I got you." It only took a handful of seconds before she calmed down, soothing with the motion of him gently swaying back and forth.

Before she closed them Bucky was shocked and wounded in an entirely foreign way to see his eyes looking back at him. Steve's hair. The pouty set of his own lips. The thought reminded him of the mask still secured around his face, and he tugged it off, throwing it carelessly to the floor.

Castle spoke up after Bucky had handed the file to him a little absently, so he could use both hands to gently cradle the sleeping baby at his shoulder,

"She's beautiful." He said gruffly, and Bucky caught Castle's eyes from over the top of the baby's head. He nodded, and it was a silent thank you, for a lot of different things. 

Bucky rested his lips against the side of her head, the soft hair there. Closing his eyes, and taking a deep breath, 

"Let's get you home, honey."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you wanna chat I'm on **[Tumblr](https://jamesbuckybuck.tumblr.com/)**


	7. Sunshine Riptide

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I declared this fic done a long long time ago. Though it didn't feel right to leave it when I had still written all of this, so here it is.  
> I think this just wraps up some stuff that I really wanted to happen when I first started writing it. Through the whole process I remember I had been working toward this.  
> If there are inconsistencies with previous chapters, I claim them and apologize, this is something I needed to do and if I sat there and agonized over every detail I knew I would've backed out.

The walk back up the Hydra base felt surreal, and Bucky cradled the little girl tightly to his chest, stepping around the mangled bodies of hydra as gently as he could as to not jostle her.

Bucky hesitated at the door to the base, part of himself from so long ago waking up.  
Before war.  
Before Ice.   
Before loss and blood and death.  
Holding a tiny little thing in his arms, his sister.  
Precious and fragile.

The wind was whipping outside, and carried a chill inside of it.

The baby had nothing on but a nondescript piece of cloth, and it set something inside Bucky on edge to see how Ill-cared for she had been. Never again.  
It was less of a surprise than it ought to have been that the Soldier agreed.

EXPANSION OF MISSION PARAMETERS.

MISSION-PROTECT: 2.

PRIORITY-ALPHA. PRIORITY-ALPHA.

So Bucky held up a hand, Castle automatically pausing as he did.  
"I need a blanket, or something. The wind..." He trailed off, watching as Castle striped off his outer layer, draping it over and around the baby. His hand lingered on her back through the fabric and he nodded at Bucky as he stepped back.

"You need anything, you just ask." And then The Punisher vanished.

Two cold blooded killers, brought to their knees by an infant, utterly powerless against her.

*

"Sir, it appears that there is...an infant within your care?" JARVIS Inquired politely when Bucky stepped on the elevator to his and Steve's floor. Bucky peeked under Castle's jacket, watching the babies sleeping face before suddenly feeling fear twist his stomach.

"JARVIS, is she okay? Is she healthy?" His voice came out wavering and brittle though JARVIS didn't comment, just remained silent for a moment before replying in an even tone.

"There are no physical indications of distress or trauma, other than a heightened amount of melatonin, that appears to have been intentional and will wear off within the next few days." The information was quick, clear and precise. Bucky felt a knot of tension leech out of him, and he leaned his metal shoulder against the glass of the elevator, resting his head against the wall and closing his eyes.

"Sergeant, would you like me to get in touch with a pediatrician?" JARVIS was definitely Bucky's favorite. Though he shook his head.

"Soon JARVIS, right now though I have to...I gotta tell Steve..." JARVIS hummed slightly in answer before falling silent, and Bucky swallowed thickly.

Telling Steve.  
Bucky didn't know how this was gonna go. They had talked, once, before the war. About all of the impossibly crazy things they wanted but could never have.

Kids had been right up there with marriage.

The ring on Bucky's hand can attest to impossible crazy things happening.

The baby on his shoulder though. It was too good. She was too pure, too perfect.

He didn't deserve her.

Bucky didn't know what he would do if Steve said he didn't want her. Couldn't bear the thought of leaving her with someone else. Someone who couldn't protect her.

The idea made The Soldier snarl.

The elevator doors whooshed open and Bucky opened his eyes, taking a deep and steadying breath, biting his tongue against the emotions at the tiny exhale of breath against his neck.

Steve was awake.

Steve was not only awake but pacing.

When he saw the doors open he rushed forward.

"Bucky you didn't leave a note! I thought I was going to have to-" Steve stops abruptly when Bucky sways away from his hand, his hand that was going to rest against his right shoulder.

It seems that in his panic he wasn't paying attention, but the minute that Bucky sways away from him he stops, a look of horror on his face like he thinks Bucky's afraid of him.

Then he freezes.

Bucky doesn't even think he's breathing to be honest.

"Buck," He starts, eyes zeroed in on the lump still under Castle's jacket, no doubt hearing the steady beat of her tiny heart, just like Bucky could.

Bucky licks his lips, feeling his eyes burn and viciously ignoring the urge to cry at everything that has happened, "Steve. The files are in my vest I can explain I just-. She's." He stops, gathering his thoughts, "Stevie, she's ours." As he says it he gently moves the coat, dropping it on the carpet with a soft thud.

Steve is definitely not breathing now, and he only has eyes for the baby.

It takes a tiny yawn from the baby, who is sleepily rubbing her face on Bucky's tac gear, before Steve seemingly comes back to himself all at once. He approaches cautiously, eyes huge and round, gently places a big hand over her back, over Bucky's. With the other he places it on Bucky's waist, then ever so carefully leans down, looking at their daughter.

Bucky's breath catches when he lets himself think it.

Their daughter.

There's a sniffle behind him and Bucky realizes Steve's eyes are welled up, and he turns slowly, allowing Steve to wrap them both up in his arms.

For awhile they just stand there in each other's arms.  
Baby held securely between them.

Steve eventually reads the file, and there is a dangerous set to his shoulders.

It smooths away when he buries it, another time.

Bucky is in the lounge chair, still cradling the baby when Steve gets done, and he makes himself ask, "She's. She's ours. Look and I know with everything that I've done, but we can't give her up Steve. If anything you can-"

Steve stops him with narrowed eyes and a fierce scowl.

Instead of replying, he gets up from the couch to crouch in front of the lounge chair, peering up at Bucky with nothing short of adoration and wonder,

"We're going to need a name."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanna say thank you to everyone who has ever read this fic. It honestly warm my hearts every single time I see that I have a new kudos on it.


End file.
